"My language is Orbish."

"It's English to me. What's the name of your country, son?"

"It has no name. Towns are named, not countries."

"Who are you, then?"

"I am Revel, the Mink," he said proudly. "I am the leader of the rebels,
who are even now spreading through the land sending the word that the
gods can die, and that the gentry's day is done. I am the Mink."

He half-expected the man to know the old ballads, but Doctorklapham
said, "Mink? That was an animal when I was around last.... Call me
John."

"John. That sounds like a name." Rack nodded. "Yes, this is better than
Doctorklapham."

"Anybody have a cigarette?" asked John.

"What's that?"

"A fag, boy--tobacco, something to smoke. You drag it in and puff it
out."

"Your words make no sense," said Revel. "Drag in smoke?"

"This is going to be worse than I anticipated," said John. "Look, can't
we go somewhere and get comfortable? I have a lot to find out before I
can start getting across to you what I was sent into the future for."

"We are besieged by the gods. We dare not leave this place."

"By the gods. Hmm. Let's sit down, boy. I want to know all about things
here. Miss, after you." He waited till Nirea had squatted on the floor,
then folded himself down. "Okay," he said, whatever that meant. "Shoot.
Begin. What are the gods, first?"

Lady Nirea listened with half an ear to Revel's speeches, but with all
her intellect she tried to follow John's remarks. They were sometimes
fragmentary, sometimes short explanations of things that puzzled Revel,
and sometimes merely grunts and slappings of his thighs. Many words she
did not know....

* * * * *

_My God, that sounds like extraterrestrial beings ... globes,
golden aura of energy or force, sure, that's possible; and
tentacles ... zanphs? describe 'em ... they aren't from Earth either;
I'll bet you these god-globes of yours, which must be Martian or
Venusian or Lord-knows-what, brought along those pretty pets when they
hit for Earth...._

_Listen, Mink, those are not gods! They're things from the stars, from
out there beyond the world! You understand that? They came here in those
"buttons" of yours--what we used to call flying saucers--and took over
after ... after whatever happened. Your civilization must have been in a
hell of a decline to accept 'em as gods, because in my day ... oh, well,
go ahead._

_Priests, sure, there'd be a class of sycophants, bast